


"I'll see you soon, darling"

by giorginaBM



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Battle of Hogwarts, Canonical Character Death, F/M, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-14 15:53:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28548189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/giorginaBM/pseuds/giorginaBM
Summary: Fred lay by your side, eyes shut, but just as beautiful as you remembered him –I told you I would be seeing you soon, my love.However, the inexplicable joy you felt was short-lived as the sounds in the background which had once been white noise were amplified, and you felt hands struggling to lift you up.
Relationships: Fred Weasley/Reader
Kudos: 9





	"I'll see you soon, darling"

The Battle of Hogwarts reflected the scene of one of your greatest nightmares. Fire had begun to burn through the grounds, eclipsing everything in its path – the architecture, spiders, giants, and wizards alike. The screams of the injured and the dying echoed among the halls; killing curses and hexes being thrown left, right and centre. You had unintentionally been split from Fred’s side at some point during the ordeal, and hurried behind Ron, Hermione and Harry, searching everywhere for sight of him. However, his flaming red head and chester-like grin was nowhere to be found, and so you were left to dawdle behind the trio into the Room of Requirement to retrieve the lost diadem of Ravenclaw instead. There were no obstacles standing in their way – no death-eaters, no crumbling balconies, no passwords needed – it was almost too easy. And you were right. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle suddenly showed up to ruin the party just as Harry had found the much-sought diadem. It seemed that Crabbe had lost his last remaining brain cells, calling the horcrux “die-dumb” rather than its actual name “diadem”, and spouting on about how he was going to kill Harry in the name of Voldemort. Malfoy, who stood by his side, looked as if he regretted his decision to bring him in the room. To make matters worse, the imbecile flicked his wand, its target intended for Harry, but instead, hit the tower of misplaced furniture, setting fire to the room with a spell no one could stop. The quartet grabbed a set of nearby broomsticks and flew to safety with, regrettably, Malfoy and Goyle in toll. Crabbe lay trapped in the rubble he created, left for dead by the others, while Malfoy screamed like an insolent child; clinging to Harry with what little strength he had left. 

The horcrux was successfully destroyed and now you could re-focus your attention on finding the love of your life. It didn’t take too long, seeing as him and his older brother, Percy, were right outside the doors; battling against the Minister of Magic, Thicknesse, and another, highly-trained death-eater. Fred’s concentrated scowl soon turned into his signature smile upon sighting his fiancée, safe and uninjured. You too returned the sentiment and went to embrace the younger Weasley, but the moment was interrupted by Percy’s sudden chuckle. 

“Minister,” bellowed Percy, sending a neat jinx straight at Thicknesse, who dropped his wand and clawed at the front of his robes, apparently in awful discomfort. “Did I mention I’m resigning?”

“You’re joking Perce!” Fred shouted, shifting his attention towards Percy, instead of you and the death-eater, who everyone had failed to see had recovered from the stunning spell and was advancing on the group.

Thicknesse had fallen to the ground with tiny spikes erupting all over him; he seemed to be turning into some kind of search urchin. You and Fred both looked at Percy with glee. 

“You are actually joking…I don’t think I have heard you joke since you were-” But before Fred could finish his sentence, the air exploded under the weight of the death-eater’s _“bombarda maxima”_. 

They had been grouped together – You, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred and Percy – in that fragment of a moment when danger seemed temporarily at bay. The eruption sent you flying through the air and towards an already crumbling pillar; all you could do in that fleeting moment was guard your head with your arms before crash-landing into the concrete structure, which immediately gave way at the sudden pressure. Mountains of dust saturated the air; your ears rang from the close explosion. You were certain you had broken a couple of ribs, if not at least fractured them slightly, and the hot stickiness on your cheek told you that you were bleeding copiously from a wound on your temple. Through the ringing in your ears, you could hear the screams and yells of your counterparts without a hope of knowing what had happened to them. But then you heard a terrible cry that pulled at your insides, one that expressed an agony of a kind neither a flame nor a curse could cause, and you knew someone hadn’t made it out alive, but you didn’t know who. You shakily pushed the remaining rubble off your hip and thigh, and used the ground as support to help you stand up; swaying, you were the most frightened you had been that entire day – more frightened than when you had realised you had been separated from Fred. Hermione too was struggling to her feet in the wreckage, and you watched as three red-headed men grouped on the ground where the wall had been blasted apart. Harry grabbed Hermione’s hand as they staggered and stumbled over stone and wood, parting from your line of vision and giving you a clear view of the scene that was unfolding. 

_“No, no, no!”_ you could vaguely hear your own voice scream, but it was as if you were watching from the outside. 

Percy and Ron knelt over their brother, as Fred’s eyes stared without seeing; the ghost of his last laugh still etched upon his face. Time seemed to collapse, and you could feel yourself sink to the ground in front of Fred’s body with the sudden grief that washed over you. A gut-wrenching sob erupted from your lips; tears quickly spilling out onto Fred’s bloodied sweater. The group could only watch, silent tears in their own eyes, as you grasped the collar of the sweater and buried your head into his still-warm neck. Memories flashed by in fragments: third year at Hogwarts when Fred pulled his first and only prank on you in the Gryffindor common room, sparking the beginning of your love story; running down the halls, hand-in-hand, laughing with tears in your eyes after launching a mountain of dungbombs in Filch’s office; swaying in Fred’s arms at the Yule Ball, everyone having retired for the evening, leaving just the two of you on the dance floor; riding on the end of Fred’s broomstick as you, him and George made your grand exit from Hogwarts to pursue their life-long dream of opening a prank shop in Diagon Alley; lastly, Fred kneeling down on one knee in the middle of the meadow at The Burrow, the stars seeming to shine even brighter in the night sky as you accepted his proposal. You had both planned for many more years together that now you would never get. 

“Y/N, we…we have to go, it’s not safe here,” you heard Harry gently murmur over your shoulder. “Percy will make sure Fred is moved to safety, but we have to leave now if we want to destroy the last remaining horcruxes.”

Horcruxes? Who cared about the horcruxes when your world had already fallen apart. You were determined to stay with Fred, not caring what happened at this point just as long as you could remain curled into his side, but it was Harry’s next words that changed your resolve.

“Do it for Fred,” he whispered so only you could hear. 

_Do it for Fred_. Despite everything in you screaming to not leave, to stay next to Fred while the war raged on, you hesitantly untangled yourself from beneath him; planting one, final kiss on his frozen lips before joining the trio on their mission to retrieve and destroy the horcruxes. Trailing behind Harry, Ron and Hermione, the four students sprinted through the halls of what used to be Hogwarts, dodging duelling wizards and witches, and creatures intent on killing you all. You had made it as far as the second floor when someone suddenly shouted _“stupefy”_ , sending the group across the room. Looking at who had thrown the spell, you saw a woman, a death-eater no less, with her wand still raised in the air, almost daring you all to make a move. 

“Harry, take Ron and Hermione, and find the next horcrux. I’ll deal with this one and meet back up with you guys at the end,” you said. 

Harry was reluctant to leave you on your own, however, you reassured him that you could handle it. It was only one death-eater, and you had fought many of them tonight, so what was one more? The trio were still unsure, but when the woman threw another hex at the quartet, everyone scrambled, leaving just you and the witch to battle it out. You duelled with the other woman for what felt like hours, and you could quickly feel the exhaustion begin to seep in, impairing the strength of your defensive spells. More and more hexes managed to push through your protection charms – a sectumsempra spell narrowly missing your ear like it did to George. And unlike you, who grew wearier with each spell cast, the death-eater seemed to grow stronger, until finally, the fight left you and the witch was able to disarm you with _“expelliarmus”_. You know you should have felt scared, but instead, you felt oddly at peace with what was to come, and so you made no move to straggle after your wand; awaiting to be reuniting with your love. The death-eater’s wand pointed at your neck, you whispered a bittersweet “I’ll see you soon, darling”, shutting your eyes with a half-smile. However, rather than bearing the brunt of the killing curse, you felt another explosion rattle the foundations of the grounds, and watched with heavy-lidded eyes as the ceiling gave way, raining rubble and ash on its unsuspecting victims. More screams followed. A chunk of concrete hurtled past students’ heads. White hot pain erupted down your leg. The world faded to black, the pain leaving with it as well. 

Your vision was slightly hazy when your eyes next fluttered open, and you noticed that everything was definitely much quieter than before. When the fogginess faded, you involuntarily smiled at the sight before you. Fred lay by your side, eyes shut, but just as beautiful as you remembered him – _I told you I would be seeing you soon, my love_. The inexplicable joy you felt at being reunited with your fiancé was short-lived when the sounds in the background which had once been white noise were amplified. 

“Godric Gryffindor, she’s waking up, she’s waking up,” a surprised voice exclaimed. “Quickly, pull her up before she can see anything.”

Wait, you recognised that motherly tone. How could you not? It was the same one you had heard every summer for the past four years, the same one who consoled you after Fred had stupidly taken to Angelina to the Yule Ball on a bet, and the same one who had cried upon hearing the news of your engagement, and the same one who was trying to hold back tears now as she shouted directions at someone. Had Molly also perished in the battle? No, Molly was a much better witch than that, and she wouldn’t be saying such things if you were all dead. That could only mean that…

 _“Fred?”_ you whispered brokenly, almost willing him with your words to open his eyes and prove you had in fact died on the battlefield, and you’d forever be endowed with his warm, welcoming smile you had fallen for. 

Slender fingers grasped your arms, lifting you from the ground where you had been laid, sending you out of your reverie. The second explosion hadn’t left many survivors. After Voldemort had ordered his followers to retreat with the promise that if Harry Potter surrendered within the hour, the battle would be over, the group had scavenged the destruction searching for you. Much to their dismay, you were found half-buried under the rubble, bleeding profusely from your stomach and with a deaf pulse. Rightly so, they had assumed you were as good as dead and had laid you alongside Fred’s body for your final moments, but now they realised that was a grave mistake. The horror that coursed through you had you wriggling in the person’s hold. Wails escaped your mouth off their own accord, as you tried desperately to claw your way back to Fred, hoping that if you lay down once more, next time you would open your eyes and be met with his chocolate brown ones. 

“I know, Y/N,” another voice, male this time and equally laced with pain, tried to soothe you. “He’s gone. He’s gone…”

You finally turned to see who it was that was keeping you from Fred and faltered when you saw it was George. His expression mirrored your own; past tears left a trail through the dirt on his cheeks – his eyes already glossing over with new ones when met with yours; red, shaggy hair unkempt more than usual, as if it had been run and tugged a dozen times over by calloused hands; his shoulders sagged with the overwhelming realisation that he’d lost not just his brother, but his twin and other half. It took everything in you not to burst into another tirade at the sight of his face – the face identical to one laying expressionless on the ground. As if thinking the same thing, George held you tighter against his chest, burying himself into your blood-streaked hair while you buried yourself into the material of his sweater; both sharing in the grief and unyielding pain of losing the most important person in your lives.


End file.
